A Series of New Who Oneshots
by elfmaiden4legs
Summary: Exactly what the title says! This is basically a series of oneshots I have written based around the storylines of New Who! Starting with the 9th Doctor, Jack and Rose!
1. Farewell To A Friend

**Farewell To A Friend**

The Doctor stood silently for a moment, consumed by grief, and in mourning. Hefelt the lump begin to form in his throat, but he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry!

He'd known the kind of fate that Jack would have endured. The pain would have felt like ten-thousand volts of electricity shooting through his body - pain the likes of which Jack was unlikely to have ever felt In his life before. Still Jack hadn't given them the satisfaction either - the satisfaction of seeing him suffer, in what he must have realised were his last few moments of life - not a whimper of his inevitable distress.

He'd been brave - braver than himself the Doctor thought. Hed sent one companion to his death, and the other home because he couldn't bare the prospect of losing her too. Jack however had proven himself worthy with his one selfless act of self sacrifice.

The Captain – a con-man turned hero – had given his life so that others may have the chance to live, and the Doctor couldn't have been more proud of the man - nor indeed more overwhelmed by the knowledge that he'd just lost a very dear and true friend.

He'd suspected that Jack had seen war before, but never like this. The Doctor had heard Jack's plight, listened to the last words of a doomed and dying man, but had known that there was nothing he could do to save him. Jack had been alone, facing a ruthless and merciless enemy - perhaps from the moment he'd said goodbye to the Time Lord and Rose he'd been doomed to die. He should have got them both out whilst he'd had the chance. But he knew that neither of them would have wanted that. Rose would never have accepted the plan had she realised the Doctor's true intentions - before he'd locked her in the TARDIS and sent her home. Jack wouldn't have let him send him away either.

In that moment the Doctor wanted to scream, he wanted to get down on his hands and knees, fists clenched, and curse the very planet he'd been fighting to protect, the very planet which they'd all been fighting to protect, fighting with their lives - that Jack had died protecting. He wanted to wipe every last stinking Dalek out of existence. The race had not only destroyed his planet, his home, obliterated his people, taken his own family away from him, but had now also taken a close and trusted friend! No truer man had the Doctor ever had travel with him - no lesser hero.

Even though Jack hadn't himself managed to defeat the Dalek's - single handed that would have been some feat - he'd managed to buy the Time Lord the few extra minutes he'd needed to finish the Delta Wave, which was required to finish the Dalek's off!

He'd have to be strong like Jack, go against everything he'd ever believed in! If not he'd let the Captain down, and Jack's death would be in vein! He'd have died for nothing! He owed it to him more than ever now to see this through! After all had this not all been his suggestion? Was it not therefore his fault?

As the doors slid open and hundreds of Dalek's flooded into the control room, surrounding him, he saw Jack's face in the reflection of every one of the repulsive weapons they now had aimed in his direction… not that his life meant very much to him anymore.

He was alone again, with nobody to care what happened to him and nobody to fight for. There was nobody to anguish over whether he were to win or lose, live or die! But as he looked over at the computer screens submitting the live image feed from deep space, of planet earth itself, he thought of all of the millions of people he would be condemning to death, innocent lives lost through no fault of their own. Their blood would be on his hands, and the Doctor realised that he couldn't do it! He couldn't allow the human race to die! Perhaps they really were better off living their lives as a Darlek than not at all, and if this really was the end for him then he was ready to embrace his death.

He would no longer be here to concern himself with picking up the pieces! He was fed up of picking up the pieces, always of someone else's war, when he was always left empty and alone himself by the end of it all! Jack and Rose would be the last two companions he'd ever lose. He'd saved the best for last… together they'd made the Time Lord the happiest he'd ever been… and at least his memories would remain intact!

He was sorry for Rose, sorry that she'd never know - sorry that neither of them would ever know how much they'd meant to him and how much he'd loved them. The Doctor knew that he didn't have long.

The Dalek's wouldn't keep him talking for much longer, he only had minutes to spare at the most - and in those final last few minutes the Doctor said one last silent and final farewell to a friend!


	2. The Story of a Time Agent

**The Story of a Time Agent, Dancing, and the Time Lord**

"Jack, what's this?" Rose asked, as she pulled her palm away from where she'd been resting it against Jack's coat - the sound of Glen Millar now softly fading in the background - to reveal it stained with what on first glance appeared to be blood. "Are you bleeding?" She exclaimed.

Jack laughed, doing his best to pass off the young blonde's concerns. Admittedly the wound smarted a bit but he'd received worst paper cuts. "It's nothing… just a scratch." He assured her.

But Rose wasn't convinced, and was already beginning to undo Jack's trenchcoat, throwing it back to reveal the shirt and clothing beneath. She gasped as she noticed the patch of blood staining. "Jack, you're covered in blood." She exclaimed before hailing the Doctor over from where he'd already began to busy himself at the TARDIS controls.

"Doctor…" She called. "Come and have a look at this."

"It's nothing, really Doctor." Jack insisted as the Time Lord began to make his way over, although even as he did his best to conceal the growing patch of scarlet staining just below his ribcage the Doctor had already noticed the bleeding, and was now eyeing Jack questioningly.

"How did that happen?" He asked, the corners of his brow beginning to furrow with concern.

Jack shrugged, none commitment in his response. "I don't know, must have just caught it I suppose." He replied. "I thought I felt something catch me across the abdomen whilst I was intercepting the bomb earlier… but it was nothing, just a piece of shrapnel from the bomb maybe… just a scratch."

"That's more than just a scratch." Rose looked at him.

"Well, that needs tending to!" The Doctor interjected with raised eyebrows. "Med bay now!"

"I've told you Doctor, it's nothing!" Jack insisted, but his protests fell on deaf ears.

"Rose, would you watch the TARDIS for me, just for a moment?" The Time Lord asked. The young woman nodded in response before he turned back to address Jack. "Med bay, with me, now!" He ordered, turning and marching from the room. Captain Jack turned back helplessly to glance at Rose for a moment - looking for a way out of the situation he'd now found himself in - but she only motioned for him to follow and with this he resigned himself. He didn't really fancy having to spend time alone with a man whom he knew hated his guts.

He sighed, following solemnly behind, clutching his injured and bleeding side as he went.

 **...**

"You don't trust me do you Doctor?" Jack asked. He was sitting half naked, his shirt stripped from his torso and wearing a pair of loose trousers. the examination table was cold. The Doctor had already completed his initial examination of Jack and determined that although his injuries were reasonably deep they were only superficial flesh wounds.

"Why do you say that?" The Doctor asked, cutting a line of thread from a small reel, as he prepared to stitch the wound. "I haven't said anything."

"You don't have to Doctor." Jack sighed, flinching slightly, and averting his gaze as he caught sight of the tiny needle. "It's written all over your face, and to be honest I don't blame you. For all I know you could be right not to."

The Doctor shook his head, Jack grimaced as he cleared away the last of the dry blood from around the deep gash to Jack's ribcage with antiseptic - grinding his teeth tightly together and letting out an audible hiss of pain. The Doctor looked up at him, the concern clear from his anxious expression, although it remained unspoken.

"Sorry." He sighed, as he resumed to tending Jack's still seeping and bleeding wound. "I should have warned you, this is going to sting."

Jack sighed. "It doesn't matter." He responded, and the Doctor was surprised by the depth of despondency and self doubt in his voice. Only a few hours before he'd appeared so full of confidence and self-assured, leading the Doctor to believe that the man's arrogance was probably all just a charade, a front he put on to fool people into believing that he was the person he wanted to be.

He began to suspect that Jack was actually a very damaged man - his spirit broken - but maybe with the Time Lord's guidance and patience he could become that whole, pure of heart, and compete individual he evidently wanted to be.

"I probably deserve it anyway." Jack said. It was actually quite sad to see the man so depressed.

The Doctor shook his head. "Jack, what you've done in the past doesn't interest me." He told him. "It's what you do now that matters. The way you reacted earlier on, intercepting that bomb in the way you did, risking your life like that, was so brave. I'd be prepared to bet that you're not the man you think you are or might be… don't look." He advised him as he threaded the tiny needle with the wire thread, and prepared to stitch the wound.

Jack turned away but still flinched noticeably as the cold metal pierced his skin.

"I don't just take anyone aboard the TARDIS." The Doctor continued, attempting to distract Jack from the discomfort. "Although I don't think Rose would have ever forgiven me had I simply allowed you to die… you've made quite an impression on her. But I recognised something special in you back there, something worth having, and I choose my companions wisely. After over nine hundred years I consider myself a pretty shrewd judge of character."

"You don't understand Doctor." Jack shook his head. "Where I come from the Time Agency is admired by a great many people, it represents prosperity and success, to have a time agent in the family is a huge honour, it brings good standing and respect. The day that I joined up my mother was so proud, in her eyes it seemed to obliterate any wrong I'd ever done, all the pain I'd caused her… but, you see I could never completely rejoice in my 'success'. I'd never shared in their high regard for the Time Agency, I'd never wanted to be part of it."

"Then why did you join up?" The Doctor frowned, as he finished stitching the wound and cut the remainder of metallic thread before preparing a combination of gauze dressings and crepe bandage.

Jack sighed.

"I lost someone, a long time ago." He explained. "They offered me the chance to find them, the deal of a lifetime… it was my fault you see." The young Captain bit back the tears. His expression contorted into a grimace of emotional pain. He turned away.

"Who?" The Doctor asked gently.

"My little brother." Jack choked, and a single tear rolled down his pale cheek as he turned back to face his interrogator. He looked deep into the Time Lord's ancient eyes - full of wisdom. For the first time the Doctor could see just how angry, and mixed up, and confused the young man was, and he resolved to fix him. He had to find a way to prove to the man that his life had worth, and to show him that he was capable of so much more.

"What was his name?" He pressed Jack. He wanted to get the young man to open up to him, but didn't want to push him too hard.

Jack simply shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it anymore." He said, and the Doctor realised that that spelled the end of the matter in Jack's eyes. "But you see Doctor, I'm damaged goods, you don't want me here." He told him. "I'm bad news. I'll let you down, just like I end up letting everyone down."

"On the contrary," The Doctor smiled, "I think you're just the right man for the job." He told him, holding Jack's gaze. "You're done. It was just a superficial flesh wound, I'll recheck your bandages tomorrow."

"Doctor, Jack, where are you?"

The pair looked up as they heard Rose as she made her way in the direction of the medical bay in search of them. They looked at each other and smiled. Jack got stiffly down from the examination table and the Doctor handed him some spare clothes.

"Come on, we'd better not keep her waiting." The Time Lord chucked. "I'll get her to show you your new room whilst I fly the TARDIS out of here. She's getting restless."

"Who Doctor, Rose or the TRADIS?" Jack winked, and the Doctor directed him a despairing glance. He rolled his eyes.

Jack started putting his clothes back on, but then suddenly froze. He looked across at the Doctor uncomprehendingly, as though something he didn't entirely understand had just occurred to him.

"What's the matter?" The Doctor frowned.

"You mean it then? I can really stay?" He asked. He spoke as though he still didn't quite believe what was being done for him.

"Of course I mean it." The Time Lord nodded. "I'm not the type to go around breaking my promises Jack… well, only occasionally, and only to those few moronic people who deserve it." He grinned. "You're one of the team now."

"Thank you." Jack smiled, and the Doctor could tell by the look in his eyes, without need for any further word, what this meant to him.

"Besides, where else would you go?" He asked, quite seriously, and Jack shook his head. His ship was gone, along with the bomb. The only other option would have been to leave him marooned on a strange and unfamiliar planet somewhere, which would spell an almost certain death sentence. The Doctor wouldn't wish that fate on even the worst of his enemies.

The pair looked at each other and burst out into fits of mutual laughter - a new found friendship was already beginning to blossom between them, and with it a sense of respect and understanding.

"Come on then." The Doctor smiled, and the pair headed out of the Med Bay together in search of Rose.


	3. Incarcerated

**Incarcerated**

The Doctor, Rose and Jack weren't entirely sure where they were when they were grabbed and thrown rather unceremoniously into the pit they now found themselves in. They'd only caught a brief glimpse of their alien captors, and the Time Lord hadn't immediately recognised them. They didn't know if they were dangerous, nor what they intended to do to them when they returned. All they did know was that it was so dark none of them could see their hands, even when they held them up right in front of their own eyes

"Umph! Ouch!" Jack gasped.

"Jack, what's the matter?"

"Argh! Shit!" The man cursed.

"Jack?"

"Where are you? I can't see you!"

"It's so dark down here! You would have thought they could have at least given us a light!" Rose complained.

"Rose?"

"I'm alright Doctor!" She responded.

"Jack?" The Doctor asked.

"I'm over here Doctor, I think there must be broken glass on the floor or something, I've just cut my hand on it!" He said.

"Are you alright?" The Doctor asked him.

"I'm bleeding, can't see how badly though."

"Hang on a moment, I'll slide myself over to you."

"Careful!" Jack warned.

"Ouch! That was my foot!"

"Sorry Rose!" The Time Lord apologised.

There was a moment of silence whilst the Time Lord tried to locate where Jack had landed.

"Jack?" He asked again, speaking into the inky darkness.

"Yes Doctor?"

"Argh, right then, let's take a look at this hand." He said as he located his injured friend.

The Time Lord whipped out his sonic screwdriver to try and shed some light on the wound.

"Hang on, I thought they'd taken the sonic off you when they searched us!" Jack exclaimed.

"Concealed pockets!"

"Well that certainly explains a lot!"

"Hang on, then what have we been fumbling around in the dark for?" Rose asked.

"I thought it seemed more fun that way!"

"… you trod on my foot."

"Yes, and I said I was sorry!"

"Well this is a right old mess you've got us into isn't it?"

"And for once I'd just like to point out that it wasn't my fault!" Jack pointed out.

"Jack, do you want me to let you bleed to death?" The Doctor asked.

"Ooo, somebody got out on the wrong side of the bed this morning!"

"Sorry… Doctor."

"That's alright. Right just let me get at my scarf and I'll wrap it up for you. That should stem the bleeding until we can get out of here and I can take a closer look."

There was another moment of silence whilst the Doctor struggled to dress Jack's wounds in the semi darkness.

"Thanks." Jack said once he had finished.

"Right, what do we do now then?" Rose asked.

"We sit and wait, they're bound to come back for us sooner or later. They can't leave us locked up here alone forever." The Time Lord told them both.

"And then what?"

"Well, we do what we do best of course."

"Which is?"

"RUN!"


	4. In His Eyes

**In His Eyes**

Mickey stopped and looked deep into the Time Lord's eyes - something within them was appealing to him subconsciously. He doubted the man even realised how despondent he appeared. Mickey had just always presumed that the concept of emotional expression was foreign to him - or maybe he had just become too good at making himself unreadable. He'd learnt to shut himself off to the world - to an entire Universe - even to his closest of friends, until the repressed pain became almost too much for him to bear.

In those eyes Mickey saw the same pain he had himself felt for Rose in the days, week, and months after she had left him. The same sense of loneliness, and regret – the added sense of loss for a stranger whose life had somehow become inexplicably entwined with his own - and yet a life he could not ultimately save. Rose knew it, for as seconds ticked by in their world, years had passed by slowly for Reinette. She had been destined to take the slow path through life – the Doctor a fleeting point in her existence. She too recognised his pain - he had always been there for her when her new life with him had at times been too much for her to take in - but she was surprised and dismayed to find that she didn't have a clue how to comfort him now.

"Are you alright?" She asked him.

He looked at her, eyes full of sorrow and despair.

He forced a smile.

"I'm always alright." He replied, and his response broke her heart.

Mickey Smith and the Time Lord had not always had the best of relationships. Partly because he had for a long time blamed and resented the Doctor for taking Rose away from him, and partly because the Doctor had for a long time held Mickey with little regard - but this Doctor seemed different somehow.

This Doctor was by far much happier, more content, and down to earth, although he was still arguably as eccentric. This made his sadness, and the despondency conveyed within his tone of voice, all the more transparent.

This Doctor appeared far more human, more intuned with his emotions and the subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, of ways in which the human race handled theirs. Micky did the only thing he knew how to do under the circumstances, and that was to give the Doctor the time to himself that he knew at this moment he probably needed so badly.

"Come on Rose, it's time you showed me around the rest of this thing." He said, taking her by the hand, and so by giving the Doctor the time to sit - time enough to reflect, to cry, to grieve for Reinette. It was a short respite from having to be invincible, so that Rose, as she followed, didn't have to witness the Doctor give in to his grief.

In that moment the Doctor felt a new found gratitude for Mickey's compassion.

As the two departed hand in hand Rose still very much wanted to remain by the Time Lord's side - he could sense her eyes on him until they left the room - but he also recognised immediately what Mickey had done for him, and determined to make the most of what little solitude he had been awarded. Finally alone he withdrew the letter, composed by Reinette's own hand, and began to read.


	5. Nobel To The End

**Noble To The End**

"How're you feeling?" The ageing old man – John Smith – enquired of his wife as he entered the small bedroom carrying a tray of strong, sweet tea and biscuits. They were digestives coated in think milk chocolate – just the way she had always liked them. His hands were gnarled and arthritic.

Donna Noble sat up in bed, a contented smile curling her lips as she looked affectionately back at the man she loved. They'd been married nearly fifty years now, and every day she still felt lucky to be with him – she had been truly blessed.

"Thank you dear." She winked. "But I'm fine."

She had no idea what had first attracted her to John all those years ago, when they had both been so much younger than they were now. Maybe it had been fate, but she hadn't remained a temp her entire life. After the stories of 'Invasion Day' emerged, something inside of her had told her she may be better suited for a life in Military Defence - and so for many years this had been the path she'd trodden.

John Smith. The name had sounded strangely familiar to her. There had been a faint trace of recognition from the very moment that he had first introduced himself to her - something curiously endearing. Although she had never been able to explain the connection she had felt towards a man with this strangely familiar name, they had however at least been happy.

As John now placed the tray of tea down on the bedside table and set himself down on the bed beside his wife he smiled.

A moments silence ensued, each of them content to simply sit in the others company.

"I have something to tell you." He finally explained to her, wrapping one affectionate arm around his wife's shoulders as he spoke.

"What is it?" Donna asked, and with this her husband, after rummaging in his pocket, pulled from within it a small silver key.

Donna frowned.

"Many years ago your Grandfather told me to give you this." He said, placing it in the palm of her hand. As he did so Donna was surprised to see the small silver object glowing a rusty orange colour, and she gasped as she grasped it between her wrinkled fingers.

"He said however not to give it to you until I thought you were ready." He told her. "Because there would always be certain consequences to returning this key to you."

"But I've never seen this key before in my life." Donna frowned, as she passed it through her fingers, investigating every fine detail.

"He said that it was given to him by a man called the Doctor…" John continued carefully, as he observed his wife's reaction, "and that it once belonged to you."

"The Doctor?" Donna asked, "Doctor Who? John are you having me on?" She laughed.

"He didn't say anything else, only to tell you that it was the key to the TARDIS… that's what the Doctor once told him… and one day you would remember."

"TARDIS?"

Donna then gasped suddenly in dawning realisation. "I remember." She smiled.

John smiled along with her, gripping his wife's hand tenderly as he watched a cascade of long forgotten memories come flooding back to her – memories which she deserved to have returned to her now.

"What was it like?" He asked.

"Magnificent!" Donna smiled. "He took me to see the universe. Stars, planets, entire solar systems mankind had not discovered yet… still hasn't! And the people… I met Agatha Christie!" She suddenly squealed excitedly in a like her husband hadn't heard in too many years. But then Donna's face suddenly set solemn, and her expression reflected some of the darker, more morose memories, which came from a time journeying with the Doctor.

"He saved the world so many times over." She said sadly. "So many times… and yet nobody ever knew his name. Just a traveller, passing through, that's what he used to say… a lonely traveller. I was going to stay with him forever." With this tears welled in Donna's eyes, and she choked back the emotion felt during her final moments at the Doctor's side.

John continued.

"Your Grandfather also told me something else when he gave me that key." He explained. "He told me that the Doctor had said that it was you who saved the universe from the Darlek's, and that out there there are entire planets singing songs in your name… in your honour."

"Darleks?" Donna frowned, before that too seemed to come flooding back to her. "Of course." She smiled. "But it wasn't just me. There was a whole team of us… the Doctor's Army." She laughed. "Captain Jack, he was hot, although not as hot as you, Head of Torchwood Cardiff, ever heard of Torchwood? No I don't suppose you have. RoseTylerMarthaJonesSarahJaneSmithMickySmithdon'tt hinktheywererelatedthoughJackieTyler." Suddenly Donna's eyes went wide as she gasped for breath. "Sorry." She frowned. "I don't know what came over me."

"I think do." John smiled with a small regretful sigh.

"I wonder what became of them all though?" Donna mused, "And why couldn't I remember? Why did the Doctor leave me behind?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" John asked, and with this the bedroom door creaked slowly open to reveal a tall, slender, strapping, young man, with a mop of disorganised hair, and wearing a lavender suit.

"Doctor!" Donna suddenly gasped. Hardly daring to believe what she was seeing before her.

"Donna Noble indeed!" He beamed back in response as he leapt into the room, exuberating the same boundless energy of the man Donna once knew.

"You haven't aged a day." She observed.

"Ah…well." The Doctor remarked, rubbing one hand through his mop of toffee hair. "It's been fifty years for you since we last saw each other, only yesterday for me."

"But…you…you wiped my memories." Donna faltered, after a moment of taking in the figure of the man – a man she hadn't seen in more than five decades, and until now had forgotten the existence of. "Why would you do that?"

"To save you Donna." The Doctor sighed. "You saved the universe from the Darlek fleet, but absorbed Time Lord energy in the process. No human being can withstand that and survive, it's never happened before… it was killing you Donna. The only way I could save you was to draw the energy from you into me, which meant wiping your memories in the process. If you ever remembered anything, of me, of the TARDIS, of the places we went to, of the things that we did, any of it, the knowledge of that would tear you apart."

"But now… what about now?" Donna asked.

The Doctor simply looked at her - somewhat sadly - and nodded. The answer was an obvious one, and it was never easy to have to say goodbye.

"You're dying Donna." He explained. "There's nothing I can do… I'm sorry."

"I know." She smiled.

"How about one last trip though?" The Doctor smiled, offering his hand to Donna as she turned to face John. "If you're up to it." He added.

"I love you sweetheart." Her husband squeezed his wife's hand affectionately as he planted a loving kiss on her forehead.

"I love you to." She smiled, stroking his cheek tenderly. The Doctor was glad to see that Donna had made the most of her life. In John she had found true love, he'd made her happy. "Thank you."

That day Donna saw the universe in a new light – thriving because, as the Doctor never failed to point out, she had saved them all. Planets, moons, stars, some she knew, some she had never seen before, all still here and still breathing, still growing because of her, and for the first time in years she looked and felt thirty-four again.

That evening she fell asleep knowing she would wake up to those memories in the morning – to the memories which had been hers all along. She had no idea how long it would take before they destroyed her, the Doctor hadn't said, but she couldn't really care.

All that mattered to Donna now was that she had the Doctor back, she would have welcomed death in order to spend just a few more moments with him all those years ago, and she wasn't going to lose him again now.


	6. The End of the Road

**The End of the Road**

The Doctor could feel the snap in his heart as it finally broke - only slowly at first, a fine crack appearing as it took a couple of seconds for the truth to sink in - but then the news hit him like a freight-train and he felt as though he might crumble under the weight of his grief. He wanted to scream, to cry until there were no more tears left within him to shed, and to shout until his throat was hoarse and sore at the injustice of it all... but nothing would come out. It was as though his body was numb to the incredible pain he felt in his heart. Was it always this painful? He wondered, and he tried to remember. He supposed that it must be, but he couldn't recall it ever having hurt him like his before.

The Brigadier was dead - Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge Stewart, the Doctor's oldest and dearest friend. He'd always known that this day would come, for one way or another the Doctor always ended up on his own in the end. He always did his best not to dwell for too long on the inevitability of death, until it happened. If he ever stopped to think too hard about it throughout the course of his day to day life the magnitude of its implications was enough to stop him living, for the moment - to stop him getting close to anyone.

The Doctor hadn't always feared death as much as this incarnation did now, sometimes he'd embraced it - it would take them all in the end after all, himself included someday - but the Brigadier's death affected him more profoundly and hurt so much more than that of anybody else.

This Doctor certainly didn't want to die, but suddenly it seemed like a welcome release from the pain of losing his best friend and closest ally. Of course he realised that there would always be others, but the Doctor was fed up of collecting people. Over the course of his long lifetime he'd had hundreds of companions, but only a few of whom he could really count as friends, and no one who'd ever come close to filling the Brigadier's shoes.

The Brigadier was irreplaceable, nobody would ever match him in the Time Lord's eyes. The Doctor thought that he recalled in the back of his mind, and in the deep deep recesses of his memory, someone once telling him that death was not the end, it was only the beginning.

He hoped that this was true, but it still did nothing to comfort him in his moment of grief. Alistair Gordon Lethbridge Stewart was dead. His friend was gone. He would never see him again - hear his voice again - and then the Doctor gave in to the most human form of expressing emotion. He cried.

He sobbed until there were no more tears left to cry, and he was left weak and exhausted - but still this did not relieve the deep ache in his heart.


End file.
